


Domicile

by whiteroses77



Series: Anteros [9]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Aging, Established Relationship, Family, M/M, Sequel, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-01 04:03:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: Part 9 of the Anteros series. As Mara Kent-Wayne reaches maturity, her fathers come to a life changing decision, and implement keeping an old promise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final instalment of my Anteros Series; it takes place between Libertas and Tea with Chronos.

TITLE: Domicile 1/5  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
WORD COUNT: 2,843  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Part 9 of the Anteros series. As Mara Kent-Wayne reaches maturity, her fathers come to a life changing decision, and implement keeping an old promise.  
Author’s Note: This is the final instalment of my Anteros Series; it takes place between Libertas and Tea with Chronos.

~S~

Sitting in the audience, watching on proudly as the valedictorian finished her speech to the graduating high school class; Clark glanced to the side of him, and the look of utter adoration etched on every line of his husband’s face, made Clark smile. Bruce was so proud of his little girl, who was no longer so little. Mara Kent-Wayne had grown into a statuesque young woman, one who could easily be mistaken for a daughter of Diana of Themyscira. Amazonian like yes, yet she was one hundred percent their child. 

As she finished, the eruption of applause from the front row was spectacle inducing, but the four of them didn’t care. Resounded with applause, her lips pursed and with a swing of her ponytail, she stepped back from the podium. Then the principal made a final farewell, and then this year’s class followed each other down the stairs and out into the audience to find their parents. The black gown wearing girl was drawn straight into Bruce’s arms. He cooed, “I’m so proud of you Sweetie.”

“Thanks Daddy.” She smiled into his shoulder.

Her gaze met his, and then she exchanged one set of loving arms for another. He hugged her, “Great speech, Honey.”

Mara chuckled, “Writing’s in the blood, I guess.”

He pulled back and smiled. Then he stepped back, and let everyone else have their go. Mara grinned and punched her brother on the arm. A gesture she had picked up from her Auntie Lois. “Hey, I didn’t think you’d make it.” she exclaimed.

Ryan groaned and rubbed his arm, and scowled at the only person he’d allow to hit him, who was also one of the few people who could actually hurt him. He eyed their daddy over her shoulder and then revealed, “I’d never get away with not being here, you know that.”

Their son had chosen Met U as his alma mater two years ago, though he didn’t stay at the dorms, he lived in an apartment nearby. Just like his sister, he was smart enough to have breezed through his education and graduated early, having spent the last ten years doing homework assigned by the AI at the Fortress of Solitude. However, Ryan wanted the experience of college life, and Clark had encouraged him to enjoy as much of a normal life as he could. 

He watched on as one of their kids honorary brothers took his turn congratulating his little sister. Mara whispered to Tim, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Tim stepped back and ran his palm over his tie, and smiled, “I think you outgrew my help a long time ago, cutie.”

Mara shrugged, “Maybe but you encouraged me…” she poked her brother, “Us… you encouraged us and taught us how to be curious and learn, that was the best thing you could have given us, Tim.”

Tim like his mentor before him didn’t know how to take a heartfelt compliment, and looked bashful. Then she glanced around, she swallowed hard, and then she lowered her eyes and her lips pinched. Clark knew his daughter and he knew that she was missing the two figures that had been there her whole life until recently. He mirrored her and swallowed hard; he leaned in and whispered, “They’re looking over you, Mara. They’re here.”

Mara nodded stoically. Just like her fathers, she tried to be strong for everyone else. 

Overhearing Clark’s words, Bruce reached out, and gave them both a subtle squeeze. Clark smiled at his husband and squeezed back, he knew he was missing them too. Both Ryan and Tim gave the rest of the family meaningful smiles. The whole brood missed the grandparental figures.

As they were leaving, a couple of kids a boy and a girl detached themselves from a group and approached, and asked Mara if she was coming to the party at some other kid’s house tonight. Though eighteen and independently minded, Mara glanced from Clark to Bruce. Although Clark hadn’t much experience with teenage parties, he hadn’t wanted Mara to miss out. Bruce too had a quiet childhood, and despite his old party boy persona, he wasn’t a party lover either. He’d always been protective of his children, but he surprised everyone by saying, “Go, Sweetie, it’ll be fun.”

The young woman smiled adoringly at him, “Thanks Daddy.” Then she turned to her friends, “I’ll be there.”

Obviously pleased, the boy smiled. The girl eyed the group of various aged attractive brunet men, and then tilted her head and suggested, “Your brother can come too if he wants.”

Twenty year old Ryan’s face flushed, and then he nodded, “Maybe.”

The girl grinned. Then they all continued their journey to the car.

~*~

Back at the Manor, Tim stopped the car and dropped them off out front, and then went to park the car up in the garage. The rest of them made their way through the house and then entered the kitchen. Clark switched the kettle on. It had been strange when Alfred had left them to struggle on their own; Clark had instinctively taken on the Alfred’s guardian role. None of the family had even contemplated hiring a new butler or new staff members after he’d died. Alfred hadn’t been a butler for a very long time. Alfred’s real job was to take care of Master Bruce, and his family, and so was Clark’s.

He turned and he noticed his husband was looking out the window. Clark followed his gaze. He saw a couple of familiar figures outside. Then there was a familiar scrabbling at the door. He saw them notice movement in the kitchen, and then head for the door where Guardian was trying to get in. The door opened and their pet dog rushed in. Then there was a moment when it looked like there was going to be a contest for the first one through the door, but then the one who could’ve been through first stopped and motioned gallantly, and the other shook his head irritably and walked through into the kitchen. 

“There she is Miss Smarty Pants.” He drawled dryly.

Mara chuckled, and then hugged him, “Not as smart as your mouth, Jay.”

She left his arms, and then was enveloped into another big hug. “Hey, baby-girl.” Dick crooned.

She grinned and then backed off. 

Then Ryan goaded, “The two of you couldn’t find the high school, now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Dick rolled his eyes but Jason glared, “You’re so lucky, I like you kid.”

Ryan walked over, and purposefully stood over him and gazed down, “Not a kid anymore.”

Jay gazed up at him and goaded, “Until you get yourself a mask, you’re a kid, kid.”

Clark and Bruce met each other’s gaze; they had purposely tempered their kids’ desire for heroics. Though they had allowed them to join the team on a couple of missions when their kids’ firepower was needed, but always overseen by their fathers or one of their older brothers. The comment reminded them of a promise they’d made a while ago. To deliver farewell gifts from their doting grandma when the time was right. Bruce mouthed, ‘Later.” to him and Clark nodded in agreement.

Just then, Tim entered the kitchen; he saw the newcomers and wondered, “Did you forget where the high school was?”

Ryan laughed in response. “See.”

Jason shook his head and conceded, “I didn’t like the place the first time around…”

Dick bit his lip and then revealed, “Actually, we thought… well we didn’t want to take up all the seats on the front row.”

Tim began, “How did you…”

Then they all met each other’s gazes and a knowing look infused everyone’s eyes. Then they all turned and looked at Bruce with knowing amusement. Then all at once, they chorused, “Of course.”

Bruce looked at his family gone out, and then grumbled under his breath as he was mocked. 

“I’m surprised Daddy B, didn’t have his phone out videoing it.” Jason taunted teasingly.

His husband growled lowly, “Watch yourself, Redbird.”

Jason mocked, “Yes Daddy.”

Clark shook his head with exasperation, and returned to the kettle, “Who wants a drink?”

Tim looked at his watch, “I think I ought to get back to work.”

There was a smirk in Dick’s voice as he said, “All work and no play makes Timmy a dull boy.”

He shook his head, while preparing drinks for him and Bruce, while waiting to find out if anyone else wanted one. They were all mature men and during mission time, they worked together in a special unit called the Wardens, but you wouldn’t know it when they get together here at the Manor. 

Tim harrumphed. Ryan eagerly asked, “Playing what?”

The older boys met each other’s gaze, he snorted softly, they would always be boys to him, he supposed. Then deadpan Dick said, “Nah, it’s out of your league Ry.”

Ryan raised his chin defiantly, “I’m…” he took a breath, “You taught me everything you know…” he licked his lips, “The Folks in the Fortress have been teaching me some stuff too…”

Clark smiled at the nickname his kids had come up with for their computer generated grandparents. He also smiled at his son’s confidence, but also the quaver of anxiety in his voice. By Ryan’s age, Clark had saved lives a hundred times, he sometimes worried they had sheltered him too much. As a little girl, Mara would’ve argued her own case, she’d trained with them too, and at the Fortress, Diana had even extended an invitation to Mara to visit Themyscira. Mara had told the amazon ‘maybe one day’, but at the moment, her intellectual studies were of more importance to her. But now Mara stayed silent, knowing Dick, Jason, and Tim were only teasing Ryan. 

He watched as the boys’ lured Ryan down the halls, down to the gym. Since Ryan had moved to Metropolis and left him at home the dog had been glued to Bruce’s side, Guardian glanced towards Bruce unsurely, and then followed his young master. 

Then Clark raised his brow at his daughter, he offered, “Coffee, tea?”

She shook head, her black ponytail bouncing around her shoulders. “Tea… the way Alfie used to make it.”

He blinked slowly and smiled. Then he turned and found the teapot at the back of the cupboard. He set the sugar bowl and milk jug on the kitchen table. Then laid out the cups. Mara and Bruce took their seats at the table, and waited patiently as Clark poured the boiling water into the teapot with the tea. Then he placed the teapot on the table to brew. Then he joined them and sat down too. Mara smiled and said in reminiscence “Grandma wouldn’t let me and Ry drink coffee, even though she knew the caffeine wouldn’t affect us.” 

Clark smiled and nodded, “She always treated you like normal kids, she didn’t want you going to school and telling everyone you were allowed coffee.”

Their daughter nodded along, with a smile, “Except if I could keep everything else a secret, I think I could manage to keep that one too.” She reached out and caressed the floral patterned teapot, “Alfie used to make us high tea, with strong tea and English scones sometimes but always biscuits.”

Suddenly, Bruce snorted, “Bickies.”

They both turned and looked at him with wide eyes. 

His husband shook his head and smiled, “I didn’t have any secrets when I was at school age, everyone knew my one big thing, but try fitting in at school when half the things that you say your American classmates don’t understand.”

Clark chuckled, “I can imagine. He did rub off on us all.”

Bruce gazed at him fondly, and tilted his head, “Have we got some bickies?”

He scanned the cupboards and the pantry, quickly with his x-ray vision. He sighed, and revealed, “I’m afraid not.”

The grimace was so quick ordinary people wouldn’t noticed it, but Clark and his daughter weren’t ordinary. They exchanged a sad look between them, knowing Bruce was missing the man who’d been there for as far back as he could remember. Clark smiled encouragingly, and then he had an idea. His gaze returned to the cupboard, and then his gaze found the shelf that held the cookbooks. 

Then he set off in super-speed, and he searched for traditional English biscuits. He found a recipe. Suddenly, his daughter joined him in super-speed, and was by his side, and she said, “You love him, don’t you?”

He frowned, “I thought that was obvious, Honey.”

She smiled, and then put her arm around him, and leaned her head against his bicep. “It is, Dad.”

He grinned back, and then followed the recipe, mixed the ingredients, rolled out the dough, cut out the round shapes. He raised an eyebrow at his daughter and then focused on the baking tray with his heat-vision.

He placed the hot biscuits on a plate and then placed it on the table. 

Clark and Mara returned to their seats at the table and then he reached for the teapot and poured the beverage into the cups. Suddenly, Bruce was hit by the aroma of freshly made biscuits. His eyes widened, and he looked from the plate to Clark. Bruce sighed softly, “You…”

Guardian rushed into the kitchen, looking for the source of the smell of food. Then he circled the kitchen table, hoping for a treat.

He smiled, and he deferred, “I’m sure they’re not as good as Mom’s or Alfred’s. He shrugged, “Next time that I’m flying over, I’ll pick Alfred’s favourites up, and we can continue the tradition of high tea in Alfred’s memory.”

Mara’s grin took over her face, “That’s a great idea Dad.”

He smiled and looked towards his husband. He saw Bruce was looking at him with that soft intensity of his that Clark knew so well. Then he appeared thoughtful, and then he reminded them, “Mara will be at Stanford, she won’t be here.”

Clark chuckled, “You know our daughter has super-speed, don’t you. She can call in for an hour once a week.”

“Um actually…” Mara took a breath, “I’ve decided not to go to Stanford.”

He and his husband wore mirrored frowns. Then Bruce said, “Why would you turn Stanford down?”

She cringed, and shrugged, “I was thinking, that I could, you know, have on the job training.”

He caught her drift, “You mean working at Wayne Enterprises with Tim, Honey?”

“Yeah.” She licked her lips, nervously wanting approval. “Who better to teach me the ropes than the CEO of a successful international company?”

Neither Bruce nor Clark had been drawn to the business world, yet their daughter had. He didn’t want her to miss out, but he also wanted her to be able to decide her own destiny. Her father gazed at her thoughtfully. Then he glanced at Clark. He returned his gaze to Mara, and then he asked, “Have you talked to Tim about this?”

“I’ve told him I’d like to work with him, but I don’t think he thought I meant so soon.” she explained.

Bruce nodded slowly. Then he said, “I’d like you to have an education.”

Clark nodded in agreement. “Me too.”

Their daughter winced and looked between them. Then she took a fortifying breath, and then spoke, “I don’t intend working for another company other than our family's. I don’t need a piece of paper to tell Tim that I know what I know. As for the education, I’ve asked the Folks and they said they can teach me the same stuff as Stanford can, and more.”

They locked gazes again, and Clark saw softness there in his husband’s eyes, that always appeared for his kids. Clark shook his head knowing Bruce was going to let her have her way. Clark cleared his throat, and replied before Bruce could, “Make us a deal. We’ll agree to a year, like a gap year, and see what you feel like in a year’s time.”

Mara’s green eyes widened, and then she looked to Bruce, “Daddy?”

Bruce nodded, “Okay.”

A blinding smile lit up her face, and she jumped up and gushed, “Thanks Dad you’re the best.” Then she said, “I’ve got to tell Tim.”

Then she rushed off down the hallways to the gym. When she was gone, his husband turned and glowered softly, “Yes Dad, you’re the best.”

Clark sniggered, “Poor B, you wanted all the glory didn’t you?”

Bruce shook his head, “You knew I was going to say yes didn’t you?”

“Did I?” he teased.

His husband groaned softly under his breath at his teasing, and Clark chuckled lightly.

 

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Domicile 2/5  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,507  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce deliver a gift to their kids.

~*~

Clark and Bruce sipped their tea and took bites out of Clark’s attempt at homemade English biscuits. He kept an eye out and watched Bruce’s reaction to the biscuits. His husband chewed slowly and sipped his tea between bites. Slowly a smile crept its way onto Bruce’s face, and then he uttered without looking at him, “I’ve eaten worse.”

Clark sniggered, “Charm personified.”

His husband snorted, and replied with Brucie’s tone, “These, my dear, are the third best biscuits I’ve ever had the pleasure of.” 

It had been a long, long time since he’d heard that tone. He laughed lightly. He said, “I’ll take third place.”

Bruce gazed at his biscuit, and then broke a piece off, and fed it to Guardian who was begging with his sad puppy dog eyes. Clark smiled at his husband’s soft side but scorned, “Third place is a dog chew?”

Bruce didn’t take the bait and said thoughtfully, “Mom was great at making other things too.”

He understood what he was saying straightaway. “She was, though it might take a while for them to get used to them… I know I did.”

“I can understand that, mine was hard to get used to too, and that was my idea, but Mom got the previous attempts right.”

Clark smiled, and remembered, “She made us put them away until the time was right.”

“Our little girl being her own woman seems like the right time.” Bruce uttered.

“So you want to show them today?”

“How about now?”

~*~

Clark and Bruce headed for the entrance to the stone stairway with Guardian trailing them. With years of experience, Bruce said to open air, “Your dad and I are going to the cave, both of you meet us there.”

Clark heard Ryan reply, “Okay D.” 

And then Mara say, “On our way, Daddy.”

He messaged, “They’re on their way.”

As they descended the stairs, he heard a little wince of strain from his husband. Bruce’s heartbeat, his voice, his breathing, the slide of a wool suit, the flutter of his cape, the harmony of sounds that was the man he loved, had increased over the years. Now there were soft winces of stiffness, and grumbles as he used more energy to do everyday tasks, low curses when he had to put glasses on to read, and sometimes a click from his shoulder from an old injury. Nobody else noticed, but Clark did, and he smiled tenderly at his husband’s back. 

As they touched the rock floor of the cave, the kids were there already. He remembers eight years ago, when twelve year old Ryan had gained his x-ray vision while trying to find something he’d lost in his bedroom. Bruce had been dismayed to find both Ryan and Mara in the cave. They’d agreed to keep the family business from the kids for as long as possible. So Ryan had been in awe when he saw through the floor and saw the hi-tech cave under his feet, and then he’d led his little sister down there to explore. Clark smiled at the memory of hearing Batman’s weak cry of “Clark!” then speeding to the source of that cry, and finding his family all staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.

Ryan had broken the silence blustering, “Dad did you know D was Batman?”

He chuckled at the absurd question, “Of course I did.”

Then Mara had suddenly reprimanded her parents, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

While their daughter had wanted an explanation, Ryan ran around the cave in super-speed, only stopping occasionally to crow, “Wow this is so cool.”

The ten year old little brainbox cried, “Everyone knows, Grandma and Alfie and the boys and…” her mind ticking over, “Auntie Lois…” she pattered out, and then her gaze darted towards him, “Super-speed, and…” she glanced back at Ryan, “X-ray vision.” She returned her green gaze to him, “Are you Superman, Dad?”

Ryan stopped whizzing about and stared wide eyed.

Then Clark smiled slowly, “You’re a very clever girl Mara Kal-El.”

Her eyes widened at her Kryptonian name. Then Ryan rushed up and his eyes were questioning. Clark smiled, “I’ll have to tell the Folks in the Fortress they can address you correctly from now on, “Ry-El.”

Ryan chuckled, and then crooned, “Yes, oh yes.” He grinned widely, “I have the coolest parents in the world.”

Mara swallowed hard, “Don’t you get it Ry, it’s not just them, it’s the boys and Cousin Kara too.”

“Oh my god, the Wardens… and Supergirl, yes, I have the coolest family in the universe.”

After getting over the shock of his kids finding out he was a badass, Batman finally spoke, “You also have the coolest secret to keep.” His kids swallowed hard, as he said seriously, “You got that?”

The kids had nodded slowly, but with complete understanding. They’d kept their growing arsenal of powers, and the ice castle a secret, Clark knew they could keep this one as well.

Returning his focus to the here and now, Clark saw the kids had inquiring looks on their faces. Then his and his husband’s gazes locked. Bruce widened his eyes meaningfully, and Clark motioned with his head just as meaningfully. His husband’s jaw tensed with annoyance. Then he took a breath. Bruce began, “This might seem a little crazy but…”

“You crazy D, never.” Ryan joked while motioning to the cave full of odd trinkets that Batman had collected during missions. 

Bruce’s gaze was hooked on the giant penny, before he cleared his throat and returned his attention to the kids. “Well… I know I’ve…” he glanced at Clark, “We’ve tried to keep you away from the mission as much as possible.”

Clark piped up, “We wanted you to be free to be normal… choose to have a normal life if that’s what you wanted.”

His husband nodded, “We didn’t want you to think just because we’re… s…”

Mara’s eyed her daddy incredulous, never hearing him sound so hesitant before. “Superheroes Daddy, you, and Dad are superheroes.”

Her daddy licked his lips, and nodded, “Superheroes.” Clark smiled, he knew Bruce had no problem calling Clark a superhero; he just didn’t like to say it about his self. Bruce continued, “We didn’t want you to think you had to put yourselves in danger too.”

Ryan folded his arms, his becoming impressive arms across his chest in a very familiar way. Then he asked, “Are you saying you’ve changed your mind?”

Clark replied, “No, Ryan, it’s still your choice, but Mom… I mean your Grandma, she left you both something.”

“Just in case.” Bruce added.

Then Bruce went over to the suiting area, he pressed a button, and a line of Batsuits came forward, and then revealed at the very back were the gifts.

Both kids walked forward in wonderment. Ryan reached out and touched the black uniform, similar to his daddy’s but with the softness of his dad’s uniform, his fingers traced the red cape at the shoulder, then down to the red House of El shield on the chest. His son licked his lips nervously, and snorted softly, “Auntie Lois always said that she thought you didn’t want us flying around because everyone would think you’d knocked her up.”

Shocked, Clark gasped, “Your Auntie Lois is…” he shook his head, “…silly.”

Ryan shook his head, “I can’t fly around like you do Dad, people would…”

Stepping up, Bruce explained, “I thought you might want this…” he offered what was in his hand.

Their son looked down, and saw a black cowl, though the skull was smooth the ears were less prominent. Ryan’s brow creased, and he looked like he was going to tear up, he choked out, “Daddy.”

Bruce’s chest heaved, he pulled his grown son into a strong hug, and Ryan hugged him right back. Clark knew what that word meant to his husband coming from their son.

As father and son shared the moment, Clark’s eyes found his little girl. She was staring at her own uniform mutely. It was the same blue as his, the cape and the boots red too. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and whispered, “What do you think, Honey?”

She whispered back, “Classic.”

He smiled, “Is that good?”

Mara gazed up, and nodded. Then she raised a perfect brow, “No skirt like Cousin Kara then?”

He grinned and revealed, “Your grandma didn’t sew Kara’s uniform; she chose it herself.” 

Her other father sidled up, and uttered, “Your grandma watched you grow up, Sweetie, she knew you were too sharp for frills.”

Mara glanced back over her shoulder, and smiled, “You got a cowl for me, Daddy?”

Bruce shook his head, “I’m afraid not…”

She shrugged, “Maybe I’ll give the glasses a try then.”

Clark had always been grateful that the glasses worked for him and Conner, but… “Just to be safe…”

Bruce reached out, and slid the black domino mask onto her face, it hid their daughter’s beautiful face, but it enhanced her pretty eyes. Mara smiled up, “Well it works for the boys.”

He nodded along, “Are you going to try them on?”

Then they heard a cough behind them, and then found Ryan already wearing his, he was standing with his hands on his hips, the shield proudly on display.

“How do I look?” their handsome son asked, his blue eyes surrounded by the black cowl expectant.

With a touch of sadness in his voice, Bruce said, “You look great, boy.”

Clark understood that sadness, he knew Bruce wished he’d never had to put the Batsuit on in the first place. Clark stepped closer and he murmured in his ear, “He’s choosing to wear it from a good place, B. Look at him, he’s proud to be our son.”

Bruce swallowed hard. However as Clark pulled away, he saw a spark of pride in his eyes. In return, Ryan’s smile was bright and white. Then they turned around and found Mara wearing her uniform too. She looked tall and statuesque; she really could be an amazon. Clark stepped forward and gently pulled her ponytail out, and teased her raven tresses around her shoulders, and then stepped back. “You look wonderful, Mara Kal-El.”

In response to his words, she showed off her brilliant smile. Her gaze found Bruce’s, “Daddy?”

Bruce said softly, “My little girl’s all grown up.”

Mara flung herself into his arms, “I’ll always be your little girl, Daddy.”

~*~

They let the air currents bob them up and down as if floating in the surf. Ryan turned over and floated on his front, and he met Superman’s gaze. “I can’t believe that D let us have these uniforms.”

He smiled at his son, “If there’s one thing you can rely on your father to do, it’s to keep a promise. He promised Grandma that he’d give those uniforms to you when it was the right time.”

Mara rested on her side, with her head on her hand, “You think today was the right time?”

He frowned mutely for a second, “Don’t you Honey, you graduated today; you chose your own path…”

His daughter harrumphed softly, and then she looked shy for a moment. “Dad, it feels kind of disrespectful, I’m flying with Superman, and I’m wearing a uniform made by my grandma with the House of El shield and…” she hesitated.

“And what?” he encouraged.

“I’m not ready…” she smiled tightly, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to be like you and Daddy, devoting so much of my life to… the mission.”

He gazed at her and saw the worry in her eyes that she’d disappointed him. He floated over and reached out, “Mara, it’s fine, it’s fine. Your daddy and I we… we’re different we’re…”

From the side, Ryan offered, “Crazy?”

He chuckled, “Smart Alec. But yeah, we’re crazy, it was our passion, we needed to do it. It’s what brought us together. But if your passion is something else, math, or science, or keeping the Wayne Empire alive, then I support you baby, and so will B.” he met Ryan’s gaze, “That counts for both of you.”

Ryan smiled impishly, “I’m already trying to think of a codename.”

There was a sonic boom, and then a red shield wearing figure was floating seaboard of them. He boasted, “I’d suggest Superboy but that’s already taken.”

Superman grinned, “Hey Kid, where’ve you been, you missed the graduation?”

Conner smirked in return. “Well when all the best heroes are taking time off, someone had to stay on duty.” he gazed at Mara and Ryan. “Hey kids.” 

“Hey bro.” they sang in unison.

The younger hero shook his dark head, “Besides, I’ve never been into all that book learning, this…” he motioned to their new uniforms, “This is the graduation I’ve been waiting for.”

He smiled remembering how Conner had kept his promise, and he had mentored both kids in the use of super-powers. He made the learning fun for them. 

Conner nodded, “Nice threads.”

“Grandma sewed them for us like Dad’s.” Ryan revealed proudly.

Superboy motioned down at his own uniform, red, and blue but with more abstract lines, and no cape, “Grandma knew how to style a superhero that’s for sure.”

He reached out and grasped Conner’s shoulder, “She got fed up of you wearing those jeans and t-shirt, said you needed a new look.”

Conner laughed, “I was young, stubborn, and easily embarrassed.”

He knew it had been more than that, he knew deep down Conner hadn’t wanted to presume too much and so he’d worn the shield on a t-shirt. Clark hadn’t wanted to push. Sometimes, he’d felt as adrift as Conner did, and didn’t want to push too hard, and he knew sometimes he didn’t push enough. One day, Clark had come home from work and found Bruce had initiated the boys into training in the gym. Clark had noticed Bruce was watching Conner more closely than he was watching Dick. Clark had approached, and he’d almost asked, “Is it weird for you Conner being here?”

He hadn’t had chance to say the words, before Bruce had turned and smiled, “Hi, Sweetheart. I just have to go phone Mom about something.”

Then Clark had followed in his wake as Bruce went to the study. Once on the phone, Bruce had requested Martha Kent sew a proper uniform for Conner. If Conner was going to be part of this Super-Bat-clan, he needed to look respectable, he’d said.

He returned from his musing to find half of his family diving and playing in the air. Ryan was goading his sister, “You’ll be wearing that uniform more than you think. You’ve never been able to resist the freedom to fly.”

Mara laughed and swooped, “Maybe.”

Clark smiled fondly, and called, “Hey, kids haven’t you got a party tonight to get ready for?”

 

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Domicile 3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,520  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Something happens that makes Bruce revaluate their lives.

~*~

As the kids were about to leave for the party to celebrate Mara’s high school graduation, leaning against the refrigerator door, Conner asked, “Why’s Ryan going to this party then?”

As Ryan entered the kitchen, Tim smirked and revealed, “He got a personal invitation.”

The men raised their eyebrows and leered, and Ryan coloured slightly. Jason goaded, “Shouldn’t you be past high school girls, college boy?”

Dick chuckled, “She graduated today, whoever she is, she isn’t in high school anymore, ain’t that right Ry?”

Ryan shrugged bashfully, and Conner patted his shoulder encouragingly. 

Clark and Bruce met each other’s gazes and then rolled their eyes at the good-natured ribbing. Then their daughter entered wearing a simple red dress, and they shared a soft smile for their pretty daughter. Then Jason commented, “Now, I don’t remember high school girls looking like that.”

There was a peculiar moment, when the other men stilled, before their eyes locked on Jason. There was a strange undercurrent, Jason’s gaze flittered from one set of eyes to another, and then he asked, “What…?”

Finally, Dick uttered, “You went a little creepy there, Jay.”

That was a rush of muttered of agreement. Jay’s face twisted into a grimace, “She’s beautiful, are you telling me that you lot are blind and that ain’t beautiful?”

Another rush of muttered, “Well no.”

He watched his daughter roll her eyes with long suffering, being the only female in a household of men since Martha had met up with Jonathan again.

Jason snorted, and pointed at Ryan, “The kid’s no nerd either.” Then he glanced at Clark, “No offence.”

Clark huffed, and smiled, “No offence taken and you’re right the kids are beautiful.”

Bruce who had stayed quiet through the oddness, uttered, “We’re a very handsome family.”

At the comment, the oddness was forgotten and everyone adjusted themselves and smiled arrogantly. Tim put forward wryly, “But who’s the most handsome?”

Everyone glanced around the kitchen; everyone’s gaze seemed to linger on a different someone else. Clark didn’t look towards his choice; it was obvious. Then Jay snarked, “Ten years ago it would’ve been Dickie bird but he’s getting a bit long in the tooth now.”

It was a backhanded compliment, but Dick held his ground and fluttered his eyelashes, “Aw Jay, you should’ve told me if that’s the way you felt.”

Jason shook his head and folded his arms with annoyance at being bluffed.

Everyone laughed. Clark thought it was a strange thought though, because his age or his silvering hair didn’t make a difference to his husband’s handsomeness.

Clark glanced around, and saw his husband looking at him, and then Bruce’s lips kicked up at the corners and he winked at him. Clark rolled his eyes, and then he walked across to him, and murmured in his ear, “I’m not the one whose nickname is beautiful, Beautiful.”

Bruce’s eyes closed as his breath crossed his ear, and a soft breath of pleasure left him. Twenty years ago, they’d have been off to find a place to be alone with just that bit of encouragement, but it wasn’t twenty years ago. All of a sudden, Mara, Ryan and Conner all announced, “They’ve just arrived.”

In an ordinary family, he imagined there would be some concern about getting to or from a party. Clark was convinced if the kids had been fully human, his husband would be sending a car to take them and bring them home from the party, maybe even with him driving it himself. However, you didn’t have to worry so much when the kids were strong and fast enough to take care of themselves. They didn’t have to worry about their children getting drunk either. He wasn’t planning on revealing to the kids the existence of Anterian wine, or the small store of it in the wine cellar downstairs.

Clark and Bruce waved the kids off from the front door, and then closed it again. As they walked back through the big house towards the kitchen, Clark commented, “I guess you’ve got a mission tonight.” Bruce raised an inquiring brow. Clark laughed lightly, “You’ve had the boys hanging around all day, and they don’t usually hang around for hours unless there’s a reason.”

Bruce chuckled, and uttered, “All the mystique has gone hasn’t it?”

He goaded gently, “Any mystique disappeared after living together for three months in that tent.”

As they reached the entrance to the cave, they saw the door ajar, and knew the boys were already down there. He said, “I’ll see you later then.”

“You’re not going out?” he wondered.

“Not tonight.” he revealed.

“Okay, I’ll see you when I get back, Sweetheart.” his husband told him.

“Bye Beautiful.” He said earnestly.

He began to carry on down the hall, when his arm was caught, and he stopped and glanced back. His husband smiled, and confessed, “It’s always been you.”

He knew he was recalling the conversation in the kitchen, and knew what he meant. He leaned in and kissed his cheek, “If you say so, B.”

Bruce smiled fondly at his teasing, and then kissed Clark’s cheek in return. Then he turned and headed down the stairs. 

~*~

Clark had spent the evening setting out the plotline for his new novel. Now, he was enjoying the last of his homemade biscuits, with some hot milk. He had secreted away the stash so the boys wouldn’t eat them. He mulled over the pleasure that he’d felt baking those biscuits for his husband. Technically, since his Mom and then Alfred had passed away, he’d taken over the running of the house, he’d become the homemaker, and providing sustenance for his family. He smiled as he remembered a very long time ago, at the camp on Anteros II, Bruce telling him that he could give Alfred a run for his money at running a house with servants. It seemed prophetic now looking back, except there weren’t any servants.

He finished his milk, and then gave Guardian half of his last biscuit, and fussed the dog’s head. Then he glanced at the kitchen clock on the wall; his boys were still out on the mission. Nothing had jumped out at him, so he knew everything was all right. He expanded his hearing and caught the sounds of his children’s voices, accompanied by an engine, so he knew they were on their way home. He stood up, and put the mug in the sink, and then he made his way up to his bedroom. He didn’t want his kids thinking he’d been waiting up for them. 

He entered the en suite bathroom, and did his ablutions as Alfred had called getting washed and ready for bed. He slipped into his pyjamas and got into bed. He lay there waiting to fall sleep. He was grateful that his powers meant that if Bruce accidently woke him up getting into bed later, it wouldn’t affect his rest, as it would for a regular husband. He snuggled down and fell to sleep.

A while later, he jerked awake as pain came through the night to him. He sat up and glanced around. The bedroom was in darkness still. He listened intently. The cry of pain was followed by a groan, a curse, and then a harsh breath through gritted teeth. Clark stilled, on edge for a heartbeat and then two. He heard a zinging of a Batarang, a commotion and then Nightwing yelled, “Everyone okay?”

He heard the Wardens roster call and then Nightwing called, “Batman…?”

The rasp was aggravated, “I’m fine.”

Red Robin replied, “Let’s wind this up.”

Clark sighed, and lay back down in bed. He hissed as his side met the mattress. He gingerly touched the tenderness he found around his ribs. He swallowed hard, and then closed his eyes, and fell back to sleep. 

~*~

An hour later, Clark was awoken again. This time the sound was closer. He glanced around and saw the light in the en suite bathroom was on. He heard a wince coming from there, and so he got out of bed, and went and opened the door. Inside, he found his husband, and Clark’s gaze found the bruise blossoming on Bruce’s side. He uttered, “You’re hurt.”

Bruce met his gaze through the reflection of the mirror. He muttered, “It’s nothing.”

Clark entered, and approached from behind. He gently ran his fingers over the bruise. “I heard you cry out. What happened?”

He saw his husband’s jaw tighten. He glanced away from the mirror, through Clark could still see his reactions in the reflection. Clark coaxed, “I heard a commotion too…”

His husband’s body juddered as he silently harrumphed. He could sense there was more going on here than just an injury. Bruce had been sustaining injuries, small and chronic since he’d known him. Since they’d been married the mystical connection that was their marks of commitment had lessened the impact that those injuries may have had on Bruce, Clark’s invulnerability being shared somewhat so Bruce’s healing was faster than an ordinary human. Lately, their connection meant that Clark was experiencing the injuries, taking the toll of them rather than Bruce, not that Clark was going to tell the love of his life that. Still feeling the tenderness on his own body, Clark caressed Bruce’s side and tried again, “This should be gone in the morning.”

Bruce pressed his hands against the sink, and bowed his head. Then he whispered, “My embarrassment won’t be gone in the morning.”

He caressed his back, “Your embarrassment?”

His husband glanced up and met his gaze in the reflection again. He confessed, “I fell over.”

Clark frowned, and said slowly, “You fell over…?”

He saw pain mixed with shame in Bruce’s eyes, as he explained, “I wish I could say I got hurt fighting a bad son of a bitch, or something…” he winced, “God, Clark, there was some shooting, and we all went for cover. I twisted to my left but couldn’t finish the turn, I lost my balance and fell against some barrels and then landed… on the goddamned floor.”

“It could’ve happened to any of you.” he soothed.

Bruce closed his eyes and shook his head, “Not like that. I’ve fallen from places, been pushed, had a misstep but never…” he turned around and met his gaze, “My body wouldn’t do what I wanted it to do.”

Clark took a breath, and he reached out, “Let’s get to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

His husband smiled tightly, and they made their way to bed. Bruce grumbled, “I wrenched that old shoulder injury.”

They got in under the covers, and then Clark reached out, and he caressed his husband’s shoulder, “C’mon.” he encouraged.

Bruce sighed, and then turned onto his front, and Clark reached out, and began massaging his husband’s shoulder for him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to rub away his husband’s aches and pains. He ran his hand over the warm skin, and kneaded the stiff muscles until they relaxed. Bruce groaned softly, until his groans became soft breaths of sleep. Clark smiled tenderly, and leaned in and kissed his shoulder. Then he snuggled back under the covers, and fell asleep again.

~*~ 

He awoke slowly the next morning, to a gentle, almost tickling touch to his head. He opened his eyes and saw his husband was awake already and caressing his temple. He smiled sleepily, “You never wake up first.”

Bruce’s eyes smiled but his mouth didn’t. He uttered, “You have a few silver hairs.”

He nodded against the pillow, “I know.” He smiled, “Not as many as you, silver fox.”

His husband swallowed hard, “I’ve seen mine appearing in the mirror over the years, I didn’t notice yours until now.”

He teased, “You’ve changed your mind about me being the most handsome?”

Bruce sighed softly, “No, that’ll never change.” There was silence for a few moments, and then… “We’re getting old, Clark.”

“I know.” He admitted.

He winced, and said emotionally, “I really did it; I really stole your immortality.”

Clark reached out and cupped his jaw, he reassured him, “You didn’t steal it; I gave it up.”

“Not by choice.”

“No, I didn’t know it would happen when I committed myself to you, but I’d have still made that same choice, if I’d have known.” Bruce bowed his head. Clark urged, “Don’t you believe me?”

Bruce nodded and then met his gaze, “It’s not about belief. I know you would’ve, that doesn’t make it alright.”

He didn’t know what to say, Bruce had blamed himself from the moment thirty years ago that they realised their fates really were tied together. In all that time, whenever the topic came up, Clark had never been able to quell Bruce’s guilt. That was why he wasn’t going to tell him about the shared pain, the guilt would overpower his husband. He leaned in and kissed his cheek, “It’s all right with me.”

Bruce slipped away and sat up in bed. He began, “I’ve…” Clark sat up too, and listened attentively. Bruce took a breath, “I’ve decided to…” He let out a shuddery breath “…retire.”

He was lost for words again. Then he asked gently, “Are you sure, it was only one accident?”

Calmly, Bruce admitted, “It’s been getting harder and harder to keep up with the boys. I spend half my time on monitor duty.” He snorted, “Now an even younger generation of heroes are taking to the skies.” He met his gaze, “My time is up.”

He knew that one day this day would have to come. It seemed to have come around so quickly. He asked quietly, “Is it time to go back to the Farm?”

His husband’s brow creased, “No, it can’t be. You’re still… Superman, you can carry on.”

He put his arm around Bruce’s shoulder, “You’re still Batman, always will be.” Bruce gave him a tight smile. Clark revealed, “Superman will always be on call, when the world really needs me, but Clark Kent would really like to go home with his husband.”

He saw the flash of something in Bruce’s eyes, he thought he understood what it was, apart from those first few months on Anteros II, Wayne Manor had always been their marital home, their family home, and Clark had just called the place that he’d spent less time living there his home. Clark didn’t try to wheedle his way out of it, or deny what he’d meant, because he’d actually meant it. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to his silver temple, “You promised me that we’d get old together at the Farm.”

Bruce uttered gravelly, “Yes I did. Two old geezers, isn’t that what we said.”

“Yeah.” He breathed.

The love of his life whispered, “I hate giving up, Clark.”

He nodded against his head, “You’re not giving up; you’ve just got a new mission.”

“What’s that?”

“A normal life.”

Bruce chuckled.

 

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE: Domicile 4  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,806  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce make the move to the farm.

~*~

“You’re shitting me?” Jay exclaimed. “I always thought you’d go down on the street, man.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “He said he’s retiring not dying.”

Jason snorted, “Isn’t the farm where parents tell their little kids that their dead dog went to?”

Guardian whined softly in response.

Bruce eyed the dog and muttered, “You don’t have to worry about it, dog.”

Mara was staring at them dumbfounded, “I heard you joke about it all my life, but I never thought you meant it.”

Clark told her, “It wasn’t a joke, Honey. It was always the plan. By the end of the summer, B and I are going to be living at the farm in Smallville.”

Conner concurred, “Grandma was so sad leaving the Farm, but she was pleased because she knew one day you and Bruce were going back.”

Ryan and Mara met each other’s gaze and shook their heads in bewilderment. Martha Kent had moved into Wayne Manor with them earlier the same year in which Ryan was born. The farm was a story that their dad and grandma told them it wasn’t part of their lives; the Manor was their home. They’d visited once, but that was only the cemetery when they’d laid Martha Kent to rest where she belonged next to her husband.

Ryan asked, “What about me and Mara…?”

Bruce spoke up, “You’re living in Metropolis while you’re at college and with Mara’s plan to work experience at Wayne Enterprises it would be easier for her to live at the penthouse there. The Manor will be empty anyway.”

It was strange because the Manor was so big that even with an extended family they’d never used a fraction of the space here. He smiled and returned to the words that had been spoken that day at the Kent farm twenty years ago. “We’ll close the place up, mothball it until the Manor can be used for its purpose again.”

He could tell Mara and Ryan was still struggling with the idea. Bruce echoed a statement he’d made back then to his mother-in-law, “Wayne Manor belongs in this family, its Kent-Wayne property, it will always belong in our family.”

Dick who had been unusually quiet, asked, “What about the mission, the team…?”

The younger generation nodded along. Then Jason wondered, “Who gets to be Batman?”

There was tension, as if a battle for the cowl was going to erupt. Then Clark said adamantly, “There’s only one Batman…”

“But…”

His eyes and his voice got steely, “No, buts… there’s only one of me, and there’s only one of him, you’ve got your codenames Nightwing, Red Bird, Red Robin…” he glanced over to Conner, and said, “You really need an upgrade.”

The superhero, the man, who was still boyishly good-looking, straightened his shoulders, “Superboy is still fine with me.”

Clark smiled with fondness. Then he returned to his point, “You can use his stuff, his database, but you’re not having the codename.”

The tension that was there before evaporated, replaced by a little awe. With decades of experience, they knew when Clark got serious that his word was law. Dick licked his lips nervously and then asked again, “The team?”

Bruce smirked at everyone, and rolled his eyes gently at Clark. Then he said, “Superman is going to continue to be the leader of the Justice League until someone proves themselves to be right for the job. Our team the Wardens, well I hope you continue working together. I nominate Dick as team leader.” There was a small rumble around the kitchen. Bruce didn’t acknowledge it, but he qualified, “You have the most experience, and you have the respect of all the other members.”

It was a sensitive statement to make, but Clark knew it was true, though from the outside it would appear otherwise. Bruce stepped to Clark’s side, and shrugged, “But it’s your choice, a good leader is always loved by the team.”

Everyone was quiet. Then Tim spoke, “I’m fine with Dick being team leader, I wouldn’t expect it to be anyone else. However… the thing about closing the Manor. I think if we’re going to continue to use the cave, maybe we should keep the house open as a base of operations.”

Bruce replied, “It’s a bit big to only be a base.” There was a soft titter around the kitchen. And Bruce questioned, “What?”

Clark said with amusement, “Before we got married, wasn’t it just you and Alfred here, weren’t you using it as a base of operations?”

His husband harrumphed. Then he admitted, “Yes but it’s been so much more since then, it became a proper family home again.”

All the kids, adopted and blood gazed at their father figure with pride and affection. Clark grinned and mouthed to the kids, “Softy.”

They all laughed, and Bruce turned and glowered softly at him. “Stop it you.”

After all this time, Clark took the responsibility for granted, and he told everyone, “If you really want to keep the house running, it’s your choice.”

Mara sighed in relief, and revealed, “I really didn’t like the idea of leaving home to go live by myself at the penthouse.”

Bruce reached out, and reminded her, “But when Ryan goes back to college, you will be alone here.” The doting daddy then cringed and he turned to Clark, “Maybe we’re moving too fast, we could stay for a while longer.”

He knew Bruce didn’t want to leave his little girl isolated here, neither did he, but it seemed wrong to change their minds again. He really didn’t know what to say…

Then Ryan said, “Maybe I could move back home and commute to college, then Mara wouldn’t be alone.”

His heart swelled with pride for his son, and his love for his little sister. Mara smiled at her brother. Then someone cleared their throat. Tim shrugged, “Actually, the other part of my suggestion was going to be me moving back in here.”

The burden of leaving their home to become a mausoleum lifted from Clark’s shoulders. It felt kind of right that the family should continue to dwell in this place. Clark put his arm around his husband’s waist and he encouraged, “See Mara is going to be looked after. And we’re not moving to another planet, everyone will come by all the time, won’t you kids?”

All the kids agreed, “Yeah of course.”

Then there was silence as the enormity of what was going to happen sank in. Clark broke the silence by asking, “I hope you lot are willing to be removal men again.”

~*~

The convoy pulled into the old farm yard, in the late summer sunshine and Clark’s heart flip-flopped seeing his childhood home again. He hadn’t visited much, it always broke his heart to see the place boarded up.

As the hired removal truck, carrying Bruce, and Mara with Clark driving pulled up, Clark's old red crewcab pickup truck carrying the rest of the boys pulled in behind them. 

Clark got out the driver’s seat, and his husband and daughter got out the passenger side, as Connor got out the driver's side of the pickup, and the boys piled out. Ryan got out the back, and Guardian leaped out into the driveway after him. They could hear a tractor in the fields in the distance and the white dog’s ears pricked up hearing new sounds of the countryside. Then he saw the overgrown grass meadow, and excitedly raced towards it and dived in and disappeared.

He leaned in, and kissed his husband’s cheek and then uttered, “I’ll be back in a second.”

Then he stepped into super-speed. He set about removing the boards that covered the windows and the front door. He’d hated having to see them go up in the first place, now it only seemed right for him to take them down. He leaned them up against the side of the faded red barn, and then he returned to Bruce’s side. As he came to a stop, he heard Bruce gasp. As far as his husband was concerned, the windows were revealed in a blink of his eye. Bruce was used to his super-speed but he understood that sometimes the effect was still awe inspiring. 

Clark bumped his shoulder with his own, “Home sweet home.”

Bruce smiled, “It’s coming on.”

Mara gazed at the farmhouse with curiosity, and Clark urged, “Go on Honey, take a look around.”

Clark and Bruce watched on, as the gang of six, three strong men, without powers, and two super strong men and a girl with powers, which they’d forced to help with the removal, began busy emptying the back of truck. 

Conner rolled his eyes meaningfully at them as he handled the bedframe, the exact same one that he’d lugged out of here twenty years ago. Working in tandem, Ryan carried the brand new mattress they’d bought to go with Jonathan and Martha Kent’s bedframe that was returning to where it belonged. 

It was a no brainer to bring the oak bed back to the farmhouse; their own martial bed was too large for the master bedroom of the farmhouse anyway. 

Just then, their daughter returned from the house, and she approached smiling. She cooed, “This place is so cute, it’s like a dollhouse.”

Clark’s eyes widened at the remark, but Bruce chuckled, “It is cute, isn’t it.”

He almost told them off for belittling his childhood home, but he knew they didn’t mean anything by it; it was actually a compliment by two people who had grown up in a stupidly huge place like the Manor. He grimaced as he caught himself dissing his home of over thirty years. He coaxed, “You can see why we wanted to come live here?”

Mara smiled, “Yeah, Dad I’m sorry about before, I guess I’m not used to change.”

He smiled too. It was true, his daughter had always liked things to go as planned, even getting upset if things weren’t as she expected them. “And with your speed it only takes a…” he stopped and chuckled.

Both Mara and Bruce asked, “What?”

He shook his head, and explained his amusement, “I just realised I’ve never timed myself from here to Gotham. Before my mom moved to the Manor, I always visited her that way from Metropolis. Anytime, B came with me, we drove here or flew.”

He saw Bruce was staring at him with an arched brow, “I thought you were above timing yourself.”

Clark licked his lips and smiled, “The first few times I ran to Metropolis I was a teenager.” He shrugged, “Teenagers need to know that kind of thing.” He raised his brows at his daughter, “Ain’t that right, Honey.”

Mara stared at him with those pretty green eyes and then she winced embarrassed, “You know about that Dad?”

He chuckled, “It’s okay, it’s normal.”

“Yeah right.” 

“Normal for our family, and friends” Bruce interjected.

They were distracted as the not so normal men came out onto the porch. Jay, Dick, and Tim were looking a little sweaty with their efforts. Dick groaned, “All the dust cloths are off. I think the place needs dusting though.”

“A woman’s touch.” Tim said.

“Speaking of which, we could do with some coffee or something.” Jay added.

He sensed the only woman present tense beside him. Clark snorted softly, he’d seen throughout his whole childhood Martha Kent dust, cook, clean, do the laundry, make coffee and sandwiches whenever the men decided to take a break, bake goods to sell at the local coffee shop, look after the animals, do the farm accounts and work alongside Jonathan Kent in the fields. Clark Kent didn’t underestimate a woman’s touch or her fortitude. His daughter never had to do half of those things, yet he didn’t underestimate her either. 

Mara patted him on the arm, and then she floated herself into the back of the truck, she grabbed a heavy mahogany dresser, and then jumped down with it. She walked over to the porch, walked up the steps, and said wryly, “Mine has one sugar and milk, thank you.” Then she continued into the house. 

Clark grinned, and called, “Me too, and I’ll do the dusting when everything is put away.”

The men, who had carelessly slipped into some everyday sexism, glanced around at each other and then shrugged. Tim went to the truck and went into the back and found the hamper they’d brought with them. Ryan appeared, and grumbled, “I had to sit in the back, and watch Guardian all the way here, so he didn’t steal the sandwiches.”

Clark glanced to his side and saw his husband looking amused. Bruce said wryly, “How many years have you been training that dog of yours?”

Their son rolled his eyes, “Dad told me Guardian was your idea so if anyone’s to blame…”

Bruce grumbled. Clark knew he’d had high hopes for the cloned dog. Then he glanced over as Guardian appeared from behind some bushes in the garden, with his fur covered in burrs. His husband ignored the dog, and commented, “The place needs some work on the outside.”

The yellow paint had faded over the years. He agreed, “A bit of pruning the garden, and a lick of paint…” he suggested, “Shall we get Conner and Ryan to…”

“No.” Bruce said quietly, Clark saw him touching his wedding ring, the very one that had originally belonged to the man whose life was this farm and his family. His husband smiled wistfully, “No, I’ll do it.”

He smiled along, but warned, “It’ll be a project.”

Bruce nodded along, “My new mission, a lifelong mission.”

Clark gazed at him lovingly. “You and my dad would’ve gotten on, I’m sure of it.”

~*~

As their family were downstairs drinking coffee, Clark and Bruce secreted their stash of Anterian wine in the laundry room, they continued and had a look around. He had to admit, after living at the Manor the farmhouse did seem tiny in comparison. The boxes and suitcases that held their clothes took up half of his mom and dad's bedroom. He remembered moving into the Manor and finding it odd to have his clothes kept in a completely separate room, but now he suggested, “Maybe we should use the spare bedroom as a closet, and dressing room.”

Bruce nodded, “Whatever you want, Sweetheart.”

Clark smirked and shook his head. That’s what he’d said when he was sorting out the wardrobe back at the Manor. He’d explained to his rich husband, that living here on a farm, he didn’t need twenty designer suits. All he needed was one or maybe two for special events. He told him, he could bring his polo shirts, t-shirts, a few pairs of slacks and button down shirts and all his jeans, and that was that. Then he’d moved onto his shoe collection, and that’s when his dear husband had rebuffed his responsibility and sighed, “Whatever you want, Sweetheart.” 

And he'd left Clark to it. Then Bruce had gone downstairs, and began deciding what he needed to bring with him from down in his lair. Clark sniggered internally, he was going to return the favour when they got to the den, and Bruce had to figure where he was going to put all his stuff in the den which was smaller than this bedroom. 

~*~

The removal van was empty, everything that they’d brought with them was inside the house, and a few things that didn’t fit were stored in the barn and could be sorted out later at their convenience. After all the work was done, their family were gathered around in the kitchen, sipping at flask coffee.

Dick murmured, “In all the years I’ve known you, Bruce, I can’t imagine you pottering around in a place like this.”

Clark smiled, at the evidence that Alfred had rubbed off on all of them. Bruce glanced at him out the corner of his eye seeing his smile. Then his husband muttered, “You're not including my husband in that?"

Dick smiled into his cup, and shrugged, “I know it seems crazy with the super-speed and all but most of the time Clark has this easy going aura about him.”

Tim nodded, “Chilled out.”

Jay smiled, “Calming, except when he’s kicking ass.”

Clark blushed at the praise, and then Ryan who was sitting closest to him, reached out and gave him a sideways hug. “My dad’s awesome.”

Then two slim arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, “He’s lovely.”

He smiled proudly at his children’s words. His husband met his gaze with fondness too. Then they continued to sip at the coffee.

 

To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

TITLE: Domicile 5  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77  
WORD COUNT: 2,745  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark has finally brought his husband home.

~*~

There was a nervous tension in the air, as if nobody was sure what to do now, if they should leave or stay. At the Manor, it had been easy; they could come and go as they pleased. 

Finally, Bruce grumbled, “If you lot are planning on staying the night, you’ll have to sleep in the barn.”

That shook everyone up, Dick, Jason, and Tim decided to set off and get the truck back to the hire company in Gotham. Clark saw them to the truck, and as they climbed in, he told them, “Give us a chance to settle in, and then come visit, and anytime you need help or advice just call, you know.”

The grown men that would always be their boys agreed with smiles, “We know.” and then they headed off. 

Then Clark returned to the porch, where Conner was standing staring out at the property. Clark uttered, “It’s strange being back here huh?”

Conner smiled, “Strange but good. It seems like only yesterday, you were trying to teach me to light candles over there in that barn.”

Clark chuckled, “I must’ve been out of my mind, trying that in a place full of straw and hay.” He walked behind him and put his hands on Conner’s shoulders, “My dad had the good sense to take me over in that field over there…” he pointed with his finger, “...when he helped me learn to control my heat vision.”

The kid glanced over his shoulder and joked, “But you had super-breath to put my fires out.”

“That’s true.” He sniggered. He kissed the top of Conner’s head, “C’mon let’s go inside.”

They returned inside, and when Bruce saw him, he said, “We have no food in the cupboards.”

Guardian barked at the mention of food.

“We’ll have to go and do a full shop tomorrow.” He shrugged, “Tonight I can get us something.”

Suddenly, Mara exclaimed, “Wait a minute, what about at home, where do we get our groceries from?”

Conner and Ryan laughed. Their independence meant they were already self-sufficient. It was usually what kids learn when they move out of their parents’ house, but in Mara’s case, it was her parents that had moved out, but it meant the same thing. He smiled and told her, “I’m sure your brothers can teach you all about it.”

~*~

They finally had the place to themselves, the kids leaving with a promise to come to Sunday lunch, and to tell the other boys to be here too.

Clark set off in super-speed and gave the whole house a going over. He stopped in the final room, and he set about making the bed up. Apart from food, a place to sleep was the most essential thing, everything else that needed doing; they could take their time on. 

It was going to take a while to get used to the new arrangements, especially for Bruce, the downsizing for his husband was going to be mind-blowing. Although, he had coped incredibly well living in that tent on Anteros II.

As he was straightening the pillows, his husband arrived carrying a cloth covered rectangle. At first, he frowned in question, but then he realised what it was. It was the artwork that Jimmy had taken of them when they were younger. At the Manor, it had been pride of place in the en suite bathroom. It used to hang in their bedroom, but as the kids had gotten older and more aware, the kids had delighted in coming into the fathers’ bedroom and bouncing on the bed to wake them up in the morning. After they awoke one morning to the chant of ‘Bum, bum, bum.’ they’d moved the classy but nude portrait into the bathroom away from little eyes.

He watched as Bruce climbed up and stood on the newly made bed, and took down the landscape painting that was already above the bed. It was obvious that his husband planned to return the photograph to its rightful place above their headboard. He watched him hang it there, slightly peeved about him messing up the bed that he’d just made. He observed as his husband stilled for a minute and admired the picture of them together. 

He heard the soft click as Bruce’s tongue licked his lips before retreating back into his mouth. Clark knew without words that Bruce still appreciated the vision of his younger naked body. Clark glanced from the picture of them embracing, to Bruce’s present form. Along with the silvering hair, his flesh was thicker but he was still strong and fit. He decided right then and there that it didn’t matter about the state of the bed.

He toed off his shoes and then took a step up onto the mattress. He came up behind his husband and he murmured in his ear, “It’s a pretty picture, but I want the real thing. Do you want to christen the bed?”

He latched onto Bruce’s neck and sucked slowly and his husband moaned softly in reply, “Oh yes.”

He squeezed his hand down between the wall and his body, and palmed his lover’s denim covered crotch. He mouthed against the skin of his neck, “No more being quiet, every night can be date night.”

Bruce writhed back against him, and then Clark reached around with both hands and he unfastened his lover’s jeans. He slid them down his still strong legs, and then followed them down, so he was kneeling on the mattress. Then he buried his face up against him, knowing his body so well, he didn’t need a sightseeing tour, he took what he wanted.

His husband prayed with a growl in his voice, “God yes, please yes.”

He growled himself in response. He licked deeper, and flicked his tongue faster. Bruce whined softly, “Yes fuck me.”

He ordered against his flesh, “No, fuck yourself.” 

Bruce groaned and then he grinded back for his mouth and his tongue. Clark hummed with satisfaction. He caressed Bruce’s waist and thighs. Then he reached down and he blindly released his own erection. He pumped it, and then he pulled back finally, stared at his lover’s waiting ass, and then spat against it. Bruce gasped in response. It was rare that they didn’t use Anterian lube, but it was somewhere waiting to be unpacked and he didn’t have the inclination to break away and find it. He stood up, and he lined up and he pressed his cock inside his lover.

His husband cried softly against the wall between the artwork and the headboard. Clark’s hand grasped Bruce’s head gently, and he held him as he began thrusting into him. Bruce gasped and panted in response and his body pushed back onto his cock with need. 

Using the grasp on his head, he guided his lover so they were both on their knees. Bruce’s hands grasped the oak headboard, and Clark forced his face upwards, to look at the artwork above their bed. He thrust into him with a slow and meaningful rhythm. Bruce moaned softly, “I feel like coming to live here now is wrong when you make me feel this good.”

He panted into his ear, “It’s not wrong baby, this is our time to be free, and have fun.”

With their gazes still on the young heroes on the wall, Bruce gasped, “We always had fun, didn’t we?”

He thrust harder, and he confirmed, “Yes B, we always had fun.”

Suddenly, Bruce said gravelly, “I’m coming.” and then he tensed, and gasped, “Oh no.” and then his body shuddered around Clark’s length, “Shit… oh yes, god no.”

Feeling his lover’s body come for him was always the best feeling in the world. He smiled, and then his own orgasm shook through him, and he gasped, “B, oh yes.”

He laid his forehead against his lover’s shoulder. They stayed still until their breaths had evened out. Clark withdrew carefully, and scooted back, but Bruce stayed where he was. Clark’s brow creased and he wondered, “B, what’s wrong?”

Bruce shook his head, and then asked with a wince in his voice, “You don’t know what we did do you?”

He teased, “Had fun and meaningful sex...?”

His husband’s shoulder shook as he snorted. Then he said bashfully, “I… you made me come against Mom’s headboard.”

Clark’s eyes widened, and he realised the position Bruce was in, the position Clark had put him in. He bit his lip, and then he gazed at the ceiling, and called, “Sorry Mom.” And then he laughed.

Bruce turned then and gazed at him gone out, and then he shook his head, “You are…”

He goaded, “I am…”

Bruce lunged forward, and kissed him. “…wonderful.”

He raised a brow, “Wonderful, and not super?”

His husband murmured against his lips, “The super goes without saying.”

~*~

The next morning, he awoke to find himself alone in bed. It was such a strange occurrence, that his husband was out of bed before him, though there had been a time, when the children were in grade school that Bruce had forced himself to get up early every school day to see the children off to school. However, as they’d gotten older, he’d reverted to type and returned to his previous schedule of sleeping in, so he could stay up at night.

He stretched out his hearing, and found footfalls around the property, accompanied by under the breath mutters. He knew there was no danger, and so Clark got up, had a shower, dressed, and then went outside to find his husband. His husband’s wandering had halted, and Clark found him up in the loft of the red barn.

He smiled and then went up. It was like déjà vu climbing the wooden stairs up to the loft. He’d spent thousands of hours up in his loft as a child, and teenager. He saw his place covered in decades of dust, and he almost felt sad, but he was distracted by the figure by the hayloft window the top half of the window was open and he was looking out. 

Clark’s fingers tightened on the gift that he’d brought with him. He approached him, and uttered, “You’re up early.”

Bruce didn’t turn to look at him, instead he asked, “That meadow out there, what would you say the perimeter was in length?”

He frowned, and walk over and looked across a ways to the sweet grass meadow, he estimated, “Quarter of a mile maybe a little less.”

“Good, I thought so.”

“Why.”

Bruce revealed, “I plan to stay fit.”

He sidled up behind him and wondered, “Is that what you’ve been doing, scouting out workout possibilities?”

His husband shook his head, “No, I’ve just been taking down notes of what needs doing around the place.”

He knew his husband didn’t need notepad and pen to keep notes so he didn’t say anything. But he did tell him, “You know if you’re going to take over your father-in-law’s responsibilities then you will need something.”

Bruce turned in his arms, and then caught sight of what was in Clark’s hand. His eyes widened, and then he shook his head with fondness. Clark grinned and he coaxed, “I got you a black and grey one, your colours.”

“Trust you…” Bruce snorted. Then he shrugged, “C’mon then.”

He chuckled at having his permission, then he hung the material over his arm, and used his hands to gather the hem of Bruce’s polo shirt, and he lifted it up. Bruce caught it and pulled it up over his head. He tossed it onto the dusty couch. Then Clark helped him on with the black and grey plaid shirt. For a moment, he stood there and admired his husband, and he caressed his still muscled chest. His husband’s body wasn’t as beautiful as when they’d fell in love, it had flaws, scars, his skin was not as smooth, but he was still sexy, and strong. He knew he wasn’t the same either, but as Bruce watched him looking at him, he knew it didn’t matter. 

He smiled slowly, and then began buttoning up the plaid shirt. When he was finished, he caressed the soft material over his husband’s chest. “You look nice in plaid.”

Bruce reached out and cupped Clark’s cheek, his jaw. “I bet you looked more than nice in plaid when you had visitors up in this loft.”

He’d shared his stories and his memories with his husband, Bruce knew this was a special place to him. It had been a place of love and pain, fun, doubts, nightmares and dreams. He told him, “I was young, and innocent, and I’d have thought I was dreaming if someone like you came to visit me here.”

Bruce swallowed hard. “We’ve loved each other for so long Sweetheart and you still want more.”

He leaned in, and whispered, “Always want more of us.”

His husband gazed at him intensely, but it was Clark who closed the gap and kissed the love of his life. Bruce moaned, and they opened their mouths and kissed each other deeply. Suddenly, there was a car horn beeping, and Clark went to the window and looked out. He saw a car with what looked like a family inside. He raised his eyebrows at his husband and quipped, “Speaking of visitors.”

He went down the stairs and out in the yard. He heard Bruce follow. He got near the car and the family got out. A couple and a little black haired boy. The man said, “Hey, we saw from the road that the place had been opened up. We live next door, never saw no-one here before.”

Clark smiled politely, “We just moved in. You took over the Hubbard place?”

The woman spoke up, “My mom grew up here; Ben Hubbard was my great grandfather.”

He nodded, “Ben was a good man.”

“You knew my grandad?”

He smiled, “Yeah, I knew him.” He glanced over the land, and he wondered if the family in front of him realised that half the land they farmed was on lease to them from the Kent-Wayne estate and that the money had until recently been Martha Kent’s spending money, so she could keep her independence. He didn’t mention it. He heard the gravel and felt his husband come up beside him.

At his silence, the man said, “Well we just thought we’d come and introduce ourselves, name’s Roy Hudson, this is my wife Annie, and our son Jack.

“It’s nice to meet y’all. I’m Clark.” He held out his hand and shook the man’s hand.

Roy frowned, noticing that he hadn't given a surname. Clark smiled, and motioned to the old shingle hanging precariously above their heads. Annie exclaimed, “You’re a Kent, where've you been, what're you doing back here?”

Clark chuckled, “Yes, and I’ve been everywhere, but this is where the Kent’s belong.” He motioned to his side, “This is my husband Bruce.”

Roy held out his hand, “It’s nice to meet you Mr Kent.”

He stilled for a moment, waiting for a reaction; however, Bruce took the man's hand and shook it, “Nice to meet you too, Mr Hudson.” Then he took Annie’s hand, “It’s lovely to meet you Annie.”

The farmer’s wife smiled flustered at the gallant greeting. Then Bruce glanced down at the little boy, “Hi there, Jack.” 

The little boy gazed up wide eyed and mute. Bruce nodded and said to Clark, “Smallville must grow black haired blued eyed little urchins.”

The boy’s parents chuckled proudly. Then Roy said, “We’ll be on our way, welcome back to the neighbourhood.”

Clark nodded, “See you around.”

They watched as their neighbours got into their car and left. Clark sighed, “The whole town will know we're back now.”

He turned and saw his husband walking back to the house. He followed him as he walked around the side, and Bruce pointed, “I think this is the best place.”

“For what?” he frowned in confusion.

Bruce glanced back and raised an eyebrow lecherously, “For the hot tub.”

Clark shook his head, as he remembered their promise. “You want to be the talk of the neighbourhood, be those two old buggers with the hot tub in the yard?”

His husband nodded, “Yeah, why the hell not.”

 

The end of Domicile


End file.
